Boots on Ground
by Texan Red Rose
Summary: In Iraq, every day has the opportunity to turn from quiet to chaotic. Private First Class Possible is about to learn that the hard way.  Hints of KiGo, rated for violence and language


**Disclaimer:** I don't own Kim Possible and all characters related to the show. Also, my first M fic, rated for violence and language.

Boots on Ground

"Hey, Possible, think fast!" Kim turned just in time to catch a water bottle intended for her face, scowling at the person who threw it. The brunette shrugged with a confident smirk, brushing a lock of hair that had fallen loose from her bun behind her ear. "First Sergeant's orders, Possible, one bottle every hour."

Though she wanted desperately to growl out a response to her fellow Private First Class, Kim forced a smile, lifting the water bottle in a mock salute towards Rockwaller. "Thanks, Battle. Good to know you're watching out for me."

"It's what I do," Rockwaller turned on heel and started walking away, allowing Kim's smile to dissolve into a frown.

"God, I hate her," she mumbled, turning back to the area she was working on while putting the water bottle in her right cargo pocket. Though she'd only been police calling the smoking area for half an hour, Private First Class Kim Possible was sweating buckets in the Iraq sun, even in her combat shirt. She was just thankful she wasn't wearing her usual Army Combat Uniform top, which felt more like a thick jacket on days the tempurature topped one hundred, which was every day. It could be worse, Kim told herself, she could be in full gear through all this. As it was, her gear was staged next to a bench a few feet away, her Improved Outer Tactical Vest, with her Army Combat Helmet resting on top, and her M4 carbine leaning up against it. She still had her thigh holster on, the beaten and scarred 9mm Beretta shifting slightly with every movement and irritating the heck out of her; as per Captain Director's orders, she couldn't take the weapon off due to increased activity just outside the wire. Kim hadn't missed the fact that Rockwaller, rather unsurprisingly, had barely broken out in a light coat of sweat, meaning she probably lucked out with a detail indoors.

When her Military Police company first got the orders to clear out the small Foward Operating Base, most Noncomissioned Officers groaned and rolled their eyes. Being new to the Army and on their first deployment, most of the Privates didn't understand the complaint; it was exciting, to them, being the last ones out of an area the Army had occupied for six years. They hadn't realized how much janitorial services went with closing out a FOB. Kim's platoon was stuck with outdoor clean-up for the most part; apparently Rockwaller's squad was clearing out one of the hardsites, probably a building that once housed the command chain for a company, battalion, or even brigade. In a few hours, it would be impossible to tell who all had passed through the buildings over the years, save for less than tasteful graffiti that would forever mar the concrete and wood. That is, until a mortar blew the place up. Most NCO's were in a pool, betting on how long it would take after their official withdrawl for the entire Area of Operations to become a hotbed for enemy activity.

"Possible, check it out!" Kim looked up as a blonde male, one she'd gone to One Station Unit Training with, like Rockwaller, came running up with his hands cupped around something pink. Throwing the cigarette butts in one hand into a trash bag she held in the other, Kim waited until Stoppable pulled up in front of her before passing judgement on the excitable young male. "Found this little guy in a cage in one of the rooms, over where the last Cav guys lived. Guess they kept him as a pet."

Kim blinked and squinted at the flesh colored creature, whose beedy black eyes stared up at her in some sort of recognition. She could've sworn he waved at her, as if to introduce himself. "What _is_ that?"

"I dunno, but I'm going to keep him! From now on, little guy, your name is Rufus!" Stoppable beamed, opening his cargo pocket and allowing the creature to crawl in, obviously used to the action due to his previous owner. Kim rolled her eyes, deciding to be the voice of reason yet again.

"You _know_ keeping a pet down range is, like, an automatic Article fifteen, right? Fourty-five days extra duty, rank reduction, pay loss, ringin' a bell?" She reminded him while stooping over to pick up yet another cigarette butt. Stoppable shrugged, starting to head back towards the barrack building he'd come from. He stopped dead in his tracks as a noise reached their ears, instantly chilling their blood. Terrified brown eyes met her olive orbs as they both wondered the same thing. In a shaky voice, he offered up the only explanation he wanted to hear.

"ND?"

"I don't think negligent discharges last that long, Stoppable," Kim spoke in a hushed tone, desperately wishing she was wrong. A moment later, another burst of machine gun fire, and they were in motion. Stoppable was running full tilt back to the building, where his gear was staged. Kim was tossing the trash bag aside as she reached her own, harshly yanking the velcro open while trying to beat down the panic rising in her. For a brief moment, she wondered if they were overreacting, if it was just some test fire or a live range they were hearing. Both made no sense- and she knew that- but her optimism was fighting against the harsh realities she'd only heard about. Then the shouting began, NCOs from every platoon rushing around while screaming the brevity code for an attack. She had never seen them act like this and drew the only conclussion she could: the enemy was way too close, moving way too fast, and in too large a number for their small company of maybe one hundred and fifty to repel.

"Possible!" Kim turned and saw one of the Team Leaders in her squad, Sergeant Lipsky, motioning her over to a small bunker, one of the few defensive measures still in place at the mostly desolate FOB. Without buckling her ACH or slinging her M4, Kim ran towards him, thankful her squad had maintained close proximity. When she ducked into the bunker, she was met with the majority of her squad, all of whom were locking their magazines in place and yanking back charging handles, allowing only their safeties to keep the weapons from discharging. Kim pulled a magazine from the front of her IOTV and did the same, still trying to beat down the panic. She had always enjoyed the adrenaline rush of exciting experiences but this... this was completely different.

"Team Leaders, are we up?" Their Squad Leader, Staff Sergeant Barkin, demanded in a surprisingly calm tone, himself a veteran of three deployments. Strange as it was, hearing the steady baratone helped calm Kim's nerves; she had faith in her squad, in her platoon too, and focused on the men and women currently huddled in the concrete bunker with her, even as the gunfire became louder and more frequent.

"I sent Ice to the trucks with the other drivers," Corporal Go reported, her emerald eyes falling on Kim for a split second. Things had always been tense between Kim and her Team Leader, though she never was quite certain why. Something flashed in those emerald eyes, something that the pounding of Kim's heart prevented her from understanding, before the next Team Leader reported. Kim stayed silent, listening as everyone was accounted for, save five Specialists, the drivers for each team, who were sent back to the Up-armored Humvees.

"Good. Get ready to move; we're heading straight for the trucks. Move in call sign order," Sergeant Barkin ordered, pulling a M203 round from a pouch on his vest and loading it into the grenade launcher attached to the bottom of his M4. Since the drivers in their platoon carried the Squad Automatic Weapons, they were left with only M4s, M9s, and the 203s of the Team Leaders for firepower. At least once they got to the trucks, Kim would be in the turret with her .50 caliber machine gun. Maybe then she'd feel safe.

At a break in the fire, Sergeant Barkin struck out first, followed closely by his soldier and the rest of their squad. Kim brought up the rear, their muzzles pointed down as they dashed across the dirt road to a line of T walls, concrete structures in the shape of an upside down T. They didn't hug the walls- ricocheting bullets would travel along them and strike a person who was too close- but they did crouch run along them. Kim remembered the drills, the glass house scenarios, the briefs about what to do if something like this happened but she couldn't say any of that was running through her conscious mind. All she could think about was how loud it was- her breathing, the gunfire, their boots crunching on the mix of rocks and gravel, it was all too loud.

People were shouting still, directing fire this way or that. The enemy had breached the wire, the external limits of the FOB, and were taking cover the same way as the soldiers. Sergeant Barkin stopped at the end of the T walls and crouched low, quickly poking his head out and scanning the area before turning back to the squad. His expression was grim, something Kim could only tell after being around the man for so long, though some might not consider six months to be a long time at all.

"There are some Jersey barriers about twenty yards out, use them for cover. Bounding overwatch, people, let's move!" Sergeant Barkin whirled, sensing the lull in rounds, and flicked his safety off in the same fluid motion. Four soldiers followed him before they started firing at enemies on the far side of yet another road. Kim, with her back to the squad and olive eyes scanning behind them for rear security, prayed everyone made it safely to the barriers.

Several minutes passed before she felt Corporal Go tap her shoulder, a sign that Kim was about to be the last one left at the T walls. She heard the shuffled of rocks, the sound of Corporal Go running towards the barriers, and turned herself, sprinting after her Team Leader. The lull didn't last long enough this time and both females reacted on instinct, sliding like baseball players to the barriers. Though they only stood three and a half feet tall, the barriers gave them enough cover to catch their breaths. Kim couldn't seem to catch hers though, the sound of every bullet that chipped away at the concrete robbing her of what little composure she had left.

Kim had been sky diving numerous times but that adrenaline rush was nothing like this. This was life and death, and not just hers at stake. Unconsciously, she clutched her M4 a little tighter. She was winding up, the tension of combat eating at her to the point she nearly buttstroked another soldier as she dropped down beside Kim, having sprinted from behind a building. Kim looked to her side and recognized the young female as yet another whom she'd known since OSUT. For a brief moment, their eyes locked, and Kim saw something most don't expect to see on the battlefield: tears.

It seemed like yesterday the two of them were on the firing range for the first time during Basic Rifle Marksmanship training. Kim remembered how the other female had broken down crying after firing her first three rounds; she was non-violent by nature and detested weapons. Most of the Privates in Kim's platoon had made fun of her- who joins the Army if they don't like weapons?- and she took it in stride. She always said she wanted to help people, not hurt them, and that being a Military Police officer would allow her to do that, in time. Even after arriving at their new unit together, when the company went to the range for a pre-deployment qualification, she still cried.

She was crying now too. With a nod of her head, the soldier gathered her strength and popped up over the barrier during a lull, her cheek pressed against the buttstock of her M4. Without hesitation, she began squeezing the trigger and Kim didn't need to look to know she was hitting her targets. That was the one thing that shut up all those teasing Privates in OSUT: she was an expert shooter, even with the tears in her eyes.

"Princess, move it!" Corporal Go shook Kim by her IOTV and she reacted more to the nickname than the shaking, hurridely running after her Team Leader while another squad moved up to engage the enemy from the Jersey barriers. When they reached the side of a building, where Sergeant Barkin ensured they hadn't lost anyone in the transition, the squad pressed on, heading to the trucks parked near the entrance of the FOB. Kim, still pulling rear security, turned around and caught sight of a group of enemy combatants slinking along a building, trying to get the drop on the squad still at the barriers. Stopping dead in her tracks, Kim flicked off the safety on her M4 and raised the sights to her eye, taking one steadying breath before squeezing the trigger.

Blood painted the concrete as the first two went down, their three comrades unaware of where the bullets came from. When their eyes fell on Kim, in the process of shooting the third, they raised their weapons. She thought she had enough time to take down the other two, and she was partially correct- she'd already shot off the round that would bring down the fourth in the line- but she hadn't counted on one thing. Her M4 jammed.

Kim froze for half a second, fear gripping her as the final enemy levelled his muzzle at her chest. Even as she started performing the required corrective actions, only one thing passed through her conscious mind: oh fuck. In the blink of an eye, the man pulled the trigger as his head snapped backwards, the building behind him sprayed with blood from the bullet that had just passed through his skull. Though she didn't register it at first, Kim winced, a groan tearing from her throat as her hand flew to her left arm. When she looked, she found out why: the seeping blood was a dead giveaway that the enemy's round had managed to sneak under her shoulder attachment and bite through the underside of her arm.

Corporal Go was at her side almost instantly, trying to look at the wound herself. Kim tried her hardest to hide the pain, gritting her teeth as her Team Leader gripped her arm. Without looking, Kim knew the wound was minor, just a graze really, and that they weren't in any position to take care of it right then. They needed to get to the trucks.

"Corporal, we need to move," Kim gritted out, pulling her arm away from the NCO. Emerald eyes flashed with anger and something else but the female herself merely nodded, putting her hands back on her M4 as Kim did the same. Before they moved to rejoin the squad, however, Corporal Go grabbed Kim's right shoulder, her emerald eyes glinting in the sun.

"Don't you dare die on me, Possible."

Kim blinked, her olive orbs meeting that emerald gaze. Despite the pain and fear, something in her managed a smirk. "No fear, Corporal."

Her Team Leader smirked back at her. "Get some."

Then they moved, the pain nearly forgotten as they ran to catch up with their squad, the majority of whom were directing their fire at a line of barriers about forty yards off and to the right. To the left sat their trucks, the other two squads already rolling out. Two of their drivers were in the turrets, providing cover while members of her squad crouch ran to the humvees. Sergeant Barkin was standing at the edge of the building, firing off his 203 while directing everyone else to get to the trucks.

Corporal Go and Kim didn't even stop running, firing blindly from the hip as they ran, intent on reaching the last truck in the line. Kim noted that her driver, Specialist Flagg, whom she personally thought was a thick headed numb skull, was in the turret, blasting away at the barriers with her fifty cal. She had enough time to think about having to switch with him before Corporal Go cried out in pain, blood spraying the dirt as her right leg started to crumple beneath her.

Kim didn't have time to register where the bullet actually struck. She only had time to act. While barely slowing her pace, Kim released her weapon and ducked her head under Corporal Go's weapon and arm, wrapping both arms around her Team Leader and putting every ounce of energy into hauling their combined weight towards the humvee. It was uncomfortable, the various pouches and attachments on the Corporal's IOTV made moving downright awkward. Since Kim was outfitted the same way, their weight, mostly supported on Kim's legs, easily topped three hundred and fifty pounds. That was too much weight to stop on a dime, even if the Corporal could've helped, and they instead had to slam into the humvee to stop.

Both of them knew better than to enter on the contact side but, at the moment, it seemed too much to attempt walking around the vehicle and enter properly. Instead, with bullets ricocheting off the metal, Corporal Go wretched the door open and started pulling herself inside. She was having difficulty though and, despite being sympathetic to her injured Team Leader, Kim knew they didn't have time for it. With a quick 'I'm sorry', Kim put her hand on the Corporal's rear and practically shoved the female inside, jumping in quickly and slamming the door behind her.

"Flagg, move!" Kim yelled up, trying to climb into the turret while ignoring her Team Leader, currently cursing loudly as she tried to get into the Truck Commander's seat. Kim instead found herself with a boot on her shoulder, pushing her back into the driver's seat.

"Drive, Possible, we're rolling!" Flagg shouted between bursts. Kim looked through the windshield and confirmed his statement, quickly settling into the seat and shifting the humvee into drive. She hadn't actually driven a vehicle since they got in country, and not a humvee since OSUT, but she knew enough to get them the Hell out of there. Corporal Go was on the radio, calling up their status to Sergeant Barkin, as Kim floored it after the truck in front of her. The plan was to retreat to a safer location, since the company was spread out over the abandoned FOB, to eliminate friendly fire. It was only a ten minute drive and, from what Kim could tell, most of the company was already well away from the battlefield.

As they rolled past one of the other platoons, Kim's keen eyes caught sight of three soldiers dragging a fourth soldier from beneath a truck. She recognized him after a moment as one of the Platoon Sergeants, a Sergeant First Class who had never been on a deployment before. Even though the glimpse was brief, she could see the telltale spot on his uniform, dark stains at his crotch, that hinted at how well he reacted to the sudden attack. The soldiers of his platoon were shoving him into a humvee as Kim rolled past, her eyes returning to the truck in front of her.

"How's your leg Corporal?" Kim asked, stealing a glance at her Team Leader. She was glad to see the NCO hadn't lost her bearings; Corporal Go was securing the torniquet from her Improved First Aid Kit around her wounded leg. First step to reduce the bleeding and Kim could only hope one of the medics attached to her company would be able to treat the wound properly. Rather, she hoped one of the medics was equipped to do so; medical supplies were scarce as of late.

"You know, not every sentence has to end with 'Corporal'," the female snapped, though the anger in her voice wasn't directed at Kim herself. From experience, Kim knew the windlass on the torniquet was tightening the band beyond any level of comfort.

"I only mean to show respect," Kim replied, keeping her eyes trained on the road. Corporal Go grunted in pain as she secured the windlass in place, panting heavily. Kim couldn't help but look over to check on her, worried her Team Leader might've sustained worse injuries during the brief firefight.

"Respect is a two way street, Princess," the Corporal replied, leaning her head back against the seat. Eventually, those emerald orbs focused on Kim, though the dialation told the Private that her Team Leader was suffering from the blood loss. They needed to get to the medics, fast. "We saved each other's lives back there. Makes us equals in my book."

Kim smiled, unsure how to verbally respond. While things had always seemed tense between them, the redhead admired her Team Leader. To think that they now mutually respected each other was good, very good.

"This might be the blood loss talking," Go began, a smirk on her lips. "But I have two questions for you... They say there are three types of females in the Army: bitches, whores, and lesbians." Olive eyes slid to meet emerald as she continued. "I know you're not the second, and I don't think you're the first, so I wonder: are you the third?" Go blinked, obviously fighting to stay conscious. "And, if you are the third... are you single?"

-No Fear-

Author's Note: This was posted as a throw away cookie over at the Haven to get a few things off my mind. A few aspects were changed between its posting on the Haven and here, mostly to correct some situational errors. This is because the events that I saw in my head are not, exactly, the scenes that made it to print, so to speak.

The ending is, well, open ended because I might continue it in a series called _Hearts at War_- I have some material for it if I want to but it's a literal mind fuck to work on, in some aspects. Check my profile for more info on _HaW. _If there is no interest, this will stand alone- I'm actually a bit proud of how it turned out.

As a side note, I want to explain the title. "Boots on ground" is a phrase typically associated with something starting, the beginning, or a starting point. An example: "Hazard Duty pay starts when you get boots on ground in Kuwait." Though this is not the literal start of the deployment, it _is_ the point where the reality of the war hits the younger, less experienced soldiers.


End file.
